Let's Get Physical
by amanduhmiller
Summary: Let's Get Physical: Five years after the war, and Severus Snape still doesn't feel like his own master. Will a certain know-it-all co-worker snap him out of his state? And what sacrifices are they both willing to make. Somewhat DH compliant. Rated M . SS/HG Don't like, don't read.
1. Chapter 1

**Let's Get Physical:** Five years after the war, and Severus Snape still doesn't feel like his own master. Can Hermione Granger help him see his Freedom? Rated M SS/HG

**Disclaimer**: This small fanfic is based off of the Harry Potter series, written by JKRowling. I make no money; I just enjoy writing from time to time. Somewhat compliant with the DH, but I had to save my favorite professor.

**WARNING**: Rated M for a reason. This is a HG/SS story, if you don't like this pairing, you don't have to read. This takes place several years after the war, meaning, Hermione is well over the age requirement.

**WARNING** **#2**: Opening chapter has mild adult action. So…If you wish to skip, I will have a quick clean recap somewhere in Chapter 2. *rubs hands together*

There were four bare walls, a small dingy bed, and window that overlooked the streets of Diagon Alley. The window obviously hadn't been cleaned in years. Not only were there chips and cracks in the glass panes, but the thick layer of dust almost hid the large decorative cob web in the lower corner. Almost. The yellowed bulb from the street lamp below, gave the room a haunted and barren feel. It was a small room, with little comforts, but it served its purpose. The smell of booze and sex filled the air and the candles were always left untouched. He hated candle light on nights like this.

He had her bent over the foot of the bed with her skirt hitched up, and her knickers around her ankles. His robes were splayed open and his trousers hung down below his ass. He preferred it this way. Fully clothed, no light, and silence; other than their erratic breathing, and the music coming from downstairs. He never made eye contact. There weren't any pleasantries; No words of compassion or cuddles. It was a quick release.

He reached around to the front of her low cut top, and yanked down the fabric, exposing her large saggy breasts to the dim light coming from the window. Latching on to her right breast, he roughly pinched her delicate skin. A sharp intake of breath and she slammed her foot down, coming close to stomping on his dragon hide boots. The moisture around his member increased and he squeezed a little harder. He was a cold, harsh man, who remained distant during the act; but he wasn't entirely selfish. She was enjoying it. His free hand grabbed her by her brown locks, jerking her head back - his hips never losing his rhythm. He focused on her breathing as his eyes rolled back, and he growled as he neared release. Letting go of her taunt nipple, his fingers dug into her hips and she let out a yelp.

"Ah! Buggar that bloody hurts. Loosen up, will you?" she pleaded.

"You got your gold. Now shut up and take it," he growled, opening his eyes. He never occupied a room for very long for these trysts. He needed not the emotional comforts of a relationship or the mental struggle of Russian-Roulette during a menstrual cycle; to hell with that. No. His interest, were simply physical. He tended to his needs, and when a solo performance wasn't good enough, he indulged. He didn't make a habit of these evenings; once, maybe twice a year. How long had it been? His lips thinned as his hands loosened slightly on her hips.

She turned her face toward him, but he kept his eyes on the window, focusing on a small insect trapped in the cobweb. He felt her head lean back, and became rigid when he felt her breath on his sensitive scared neck.

"Don't," he hissed, pushing her back towards the bed, causing the witch to lose her footing. With her hips resting on the footboard, and her feet flailing slightly in the air, he placed both hands on her hips, and began to ram his member deep inside the struggling witch. The silence was broken by her muffled moan, as she forced her own face deep into the mattress. She knew he liked his silence, but she enjoyed a good scream every now and then. A sharp pain across her ass, and she moaned again. _**Yes, hit me again.**_

As if he could read her thoughts, he raised his hand again and smacked her other cheek. She wasn't the tightest witch he'd ever paid for, but she was responsive. He could smell her sex, and he could feel her moisture on his sack, as he pounded into her from behind. His knees were getting sore, and he stared out the window as his balls began to tighten. _**Time to end this.**_ Clenching his eyes shut he placed his large hands on her ass, feeling the small whelps he had given her as a reminder of their evening.

When his release came, he pulled back from the witch careful to catch his own seed in his fist. He would not become some bug trapped in a forgotten cobweb. The prophet would run wild with that headline, "War Hero Knocks up Prostitute". Reaching for his wand, he silently casted a cleaning spells on himself and his partner, and in three long strides he pulled up his trousers, buttoned and zipped his pants and fled out of the room.

The music and commotion from down stairs was surprisingly a welcome to his ears, as he felt the delusion charm drop from his form. He rapidly blinked his eyes, trying to get his pupils to dilate and adjust to the halls brighter lights. The rose and tulip wallpaper, slowly came into focus as he latched his belt in place, before heading down to the pub.

It had been five years since the war, and the crowd at the pub was just as large, if not larger, than last year's gathering. He was hoping for a quick escape without being noticed, but his black orbs met her cinnamon brown eyes, and his face went stiffened. She held his gaze, and for a moment, the two stared at one another as if daring the other to look away. A red head, no doubt a Weasley, blocked his view from the woman, and he quickly took his leave.

**AN**: I guess you would call this my first fanfic (or at least the first posted fanfic). Sorry for the short chapter. I wanted to give our Professor a quicky before this takes off. It might be a while before he gets to indulge again, we shall see. Please feel free to point out any errors. Let me know if it flows well. After you read it five or six times, it becomes redundant and errors are harder to catch. :P


	2. Chapter 2

**Let's Get Physical:** Five years after the war, and Severus Snape still doesn't feel like his own master. Can Hermione Granger help him see his Freedom? Rated M SS/HG

**Disclaimer:** This small fanfic is based off of the Harry Potter series, written by JKRowling. I make no money; I just enjoy writing from time to time. Somewhat compliant with the DH, but I had to save my favorite professor.

**WARNING:** Rated M for a reason. This is a HG/SS story, if you don't like this pairing, you don't have to read. This takes place several years after the war, meaning, Hermione is well over the age requirement.

Hermione Granger rhythmically drummed her fingers on her knee, as she vaguely listened to Ron's tale for the third time that evening. Diagon Alley was booming with business, much like the rest of the wizarding world as witches and wizards roamed about for the annual celebration. The dark lord had been defeated five years prior, and it still just seemed too soon to 'celebrate'. It was more of a remembrance event for the fallen victims, but Ron wanted to celebrate at the pub this year. He had a good first day at work.

She glanced across the table at Harry; his arm draped behind Ginny's back. Their fingers were entwined and Harry's thumb idly stroked over her delicate forefinger. There was a slight shimmer from Ginny's new engagement ring; Harry had done very well. Jewelry in the magical world, while still a common item for charms and protective spells, didn't hold the same endearment and meaning when it came to engagements. Harry wouldn't tell anyone the small fortune he saved for that ring, but he did decide of taking Hermione to the jewelry store over Christmas break. He had the ring picked out, nearly three months prior to asking Hermione if it was 'Ginny's style'. Needless to say, it had been an emotional reunion as she threw her arms around him, congratulating him over and over, surrounded by muggle witnesses. The announcement of their engagement came as no surprise to anyone, but Ginny. Harry had not only asked for Ginny's parents blessing, but each of her older brother's

Harry was also listening to Ron's story for the umpteenth time, and when his gaze met hers, she dramatically rolled her eyes. He lifted his mug to cover his smirk, but his eyebrow lifted in amusement and small snort gave it away. Ron glanced between the two of them, before continuing on. He had Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan hanging on to his every word.

What had originally begun as a boring Auror assignment, turned into a dark artifacts bust, and then into a major battle in Italy, with Ron fending off six former death eaters. In truth Kingsley had already sent a group of Aurors to Italy a week prior to Ron and Harry's arrival. They were following a former merchant from Knockturn Alley, who was suspected of transferring illegal funds from a London muggle bank account, which just so happened to belong to the Prime Minister. Long story short, the Aurors arrested Henry Fallows who admitted and complied with the wizarding officers. Harry and Ron were then called in to handle the difficult part, having the funds transferred back to the Prime Minister's bank. Which only told Hermione one thing. Ron's first day 'out in the field' was a bust.

Ron had been in training for a little over four years; two years longer than Harry. The Ministry required at least two years of training, before title ship and badges were handed out. And while both Harry and Ron were well respected war heros, they still had upper classmen and Auror trainers who expected them to participate in required training sessions. Needless to say, Harry had taken the work load a bit more serious than Ron, who after the first year, began to slack off on his duties. Harry had already been assigned to an assembly of Aurors, who made multiple arrests, and busts. Meanwhile, Ron was stuck in the Ministry escorting suspects for trial, when he wasn't in the Auror gym, or out practicing his dueling.

She looked down at her watch. The crowd in Haven's Goblet was slowly growing. Apparently word had gotten out that the Famous Trio was out and about, and this was the place to 'celebrate'. Hermione glanced at the Red head next to Ginny. He was staring down a torn leaf of paper. It was well worn, decorated and tarnished with specks of ink, and smudges from his fingertips. He kept his face down and his brown eyes darted back and forth. As if he could sense her heavy stare, he slowly folded his list and slipped it back into his shirt pocket, glancing at his younger brother before looking at Hermione.

"Would you like a refill, Hermione?" George asked, gesturing to her empty glass. "Maybe something a little stronger than a butter beer; a shot of fire whisky perhaps?"

Hermione wrinkled her nose at the thought of fire whisky, "I'll take a refill please, I still have papers to grade when I get back," Hermione announced sliding her mug over. George stood and headed for the bar.

Ron turned to her, as if seeing her for the first time that evening. "Wait, what 'Mione? You've got to be joking. It's the annual celebration. "

"Yes Ron, thank you for reminding me. But like I told you before, I go back to work Monday, and in three weeks I'll be done for the school year. Profess-" she began.

"Yeah, yeah... Professor McGonagall is giving you Head House duties." Ron began. "I swear 'Mione, I still don't understand why you didn't come to the Ministry with me and Harry." Hermione cringed at his improper grammar. "The pay is better; schedule for work is more organized. You don't have to work on your off time-"

"How many times are we going to have this same discussion, Ronald?" Hermione asked crossing her arms over her chest and staring out into the crowd.

Ron's mug lightly smacked the table top, sloshing his beer on the table. "Well excuse me for thinking about what's best for us. I mean let's face it, you're not around anymore. The internship was just a 'test-run' six months ago, and you were going to keep your options open. And now McGonagall is-"

Hermione's lips began to thin as she forced herself to keep her mouth shut. She could see George watching them from the bar as Marly Haven refilled their drinks. That's when her eyes darted to the potion master descending the flight of stairs. His face looked relaxed and…was he blushing? His normal pale tent was gone, leaving him slightly flushed and energetic glow, as if he'd been running in the cold. His brow line was relaxed and his eyes looked heavy as if he were deep in thought. Her eyebrows quirked slightly, and she sat a little straighter in her chair. That's when he made eye contact; his facial features almost immediately fell into place, however his trade mark glare never came. It was as if nothing could put him in a foul mood. She held his gaze and was going to give him a polite nod of the head, when George walked into her field of vision.

"-Are you even listening to me," Ron asked disgruntledly.

Hermione thanked George, as he slid her refill across the table. "Of course Ron, I'm away and you don't understand, because a teacher's salary is nothing compared to your monthly pay." Hermione rambled before sipping at her drink. In all honesty, she had lost interest after he mentioned the internship.

"Well yeah, 'Mione. If we're ever going to have a family-" Ron began making Hermione's eyes widen. "We need a good income, and really we should start a family before making huge career choices. The Ministry would have plenty of desk work for a soon-to-be-mother."

Hermione began to slowly rub her temples, as her pulse began to pick up. She could feel a headache coming on already.

**AN** : I know I mentioned a recap of chapter one (for those who chose to skip the small smut of an intro), but I'll wait until we see our favorite Professor again. Meanwhile, I hope the RW/HG pairing isn't too forced…I've never been a big fan of the pairing. The next chapter may take me a while. Thank you for all the lovely reviews.


	3. Chapter 3

**Let's Get Physical:** Five years after the war, and Severus Snape still doesn't feel like his own master. Can Hermione Granger help him see his Freedom? Rated M SS/HG

**Disclaimer:** This small fanfic is based off of the Harry Potter series, written by JKRowling. I make no money; I just enjoy writing from time to time. Somewhat compliant with the DH, but I had to save my favorite professor.

* * *

-x-

_**WARNING:**_ Rated M for a reason. This is a HG/SS story, if you don't like this pairing, you don't have to read. This takes place several years after the war, meaning, Hermione is well over the age requirement.

_**QUICK AN:**_ In this chapter, I use a movie quote from 'Harry Potter and the Sorcery's Stone'. Credit goes JKR, Warner Brothers (staff of film crew/screen writers), and of course to Alan Rickman.

-x-

* * *

Chapter 3

The small home office was more like a spacious broom closet, but Hermione never complained. It was Ron's flat, and although she had been living there for almost a year, he still had a possessive death grip on his 'man-cave'. Ron painted the second bedroom a bold orange, and immediately began decorating with Chudley Cannon posters. His first broom and his framed chocolate frog, hug over the television set, a gift from Harry. The harsh tiger orange was hard on the eyes, and often gave Hermione headaches when she attempted to spend time with Ron watching the telly. He always kept the room in disarray, leaving his dirty socks here and there, with empty cans turned over by the couch; she even found pizza boxes tucked under the couch from time to time.

When Hermione moved in, the under the impression she would have a home office, Ron had surprised her by putting a desk in the hall closet. He had the walls painted a pale blue, and even gave the hardwood floor a fresh polish. Both he and Hermione had been mesmerized by the prospects of moving their relationship to the next level, and at the time, the gesture had been extremely thoughtful. It was a cozy cute office.

_**Cute.**_ Hermione rubbed her elbow. For the third time that evening, she had managed to smack her funny bone into the filing cabinet. It hadn't stayed cozy for very long. With her teaching responsibilities, and her own personal studies, her office had become cramped with the addition of a filing cabinet and bookshelf. She didn't even have an office chair. On nights she worked on grading, she would carry a chair from the dining room, and sit in the door way. With the door open, Hermione could hear Ron's grotesque snores. His sleeping habits had been hilarious as teenagers, adorable as a young fresh couple, and tiringly annoying as a 'flat-mate-couple'.

The clock in the hall chimed three times and Hermione dropped her quill to stretch, careful not to hit the filing cabinet again. Hermione pursed her lips together and looked over her graded papers. She had been working nearly two years as the potion master's assistant, and he seemed to assign more writing assignments, the longer they worked together. In fact, if she didn't know any better, she would assume Snape's lengthy essays were to keep her occupied while he tended to hands on assignments in class. Hermione loosely leafed through the essays, and looked over her remarks. The margins were filled with her red lengthy notes. She had a keen eye for finding minor mistakes, and for the papers that were nearly flawless, she would suggest more literature on the topic to expand their knowledge on the subject. And then there were students like Parker McMahen. He clearly overlooked the assignment, more than likely due to the over celebration of Gryfindor's triumph over Slytherin in the Quiditch cup match. Hermione had spent nearly half an hour, re-writing a majority of his paper; correcting his potion ingredients, their use, and his theory, that bubotuber pus could be frozen and used in pill form. _**Where did he come up these crazy ideas? **_Hermione had found the paper amusing at first, but pursed her lips after a moment. Severus would be pissed.

Severus. She suddenly saw his flush face, and heavy stare. She sucked in her lower lip, and her tongue lightly rubbed the dry cracked surface. She'd recognized his boots on the landing before he descended the stairs at the pub. His black dragon-hide boots were slightly scuffed at the toes but still shiny from its last polish. She could remember looking down at his boots in her first year, when he openly criticized her in potions. Dragon-hide boots were not only extremely expensive, but they came with a strict maintenance guide. One cleaning spell from a wand, and the dragon-hide would slowly dry out and begin to peel like snake skin.

"_There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class," _she could hear Snape's first year's speech. Wand-waving was tolerated in his more advanced classes, and only for controlling the flame under the cauldron. Severus treasured his footwear.

Hermione could only remember one time she had seen the potion master without his boots. His Trial.

_-x-Flashback to Snape's Trial-x-_

Hermione roughly ran her hand through her hair, as she glanced around the courtroom. The Wizengamot were holding an open trial for Severus Snape, former Headmaster, Death Eater, and Murderer. The court room had been expanded to the size and design of a marble Gladiator Arena. The pit was roughly three meters deep and currently vacant.

Above, in a large enclosed globe, dementors swam around in their prison. What was the ministry thinking? This would only lead to trouble. The dementors were hungry and their agitation showed, as they sucked on the walls of the sphere.

Hermione sat with the remaining members of the Order and a few staff members from Hogwarts. Harry, hunched over to Hermione's right, was fidgeting with his new wand as he stared out toward the opposing side of the arena. The Wizengamot had yet to arrive and Hermione could see the gears in his head turning. Snape had survived and returned to the school, dawn after the first battle. Arthur Weasley had attacked with brutal force, breaking the potion master's nose, jaw and a rib or two. Harry came to Snape's rescue, and Fawkes flew in like a missile. It had been like a dream. Fawkes wept on the potion master, spreading its wings out over his frame. There was a flash of light and the phoenix folded its wings back into place as the potion master slowly stood. He was arrested, and taken to Azkaban.

Hermione was pulled from her daydream, as the court room fell silent. The Wizengamot slowly filled in. There were only forty-nine members of the council, since the Minister of Magic position had yet to be filled. When a round squatty woman came in last wearing plum robes, a murmur broke out amongst the members of the Order.

"She can't be, this is insane." Harry turned to look behind them, "Where's Kingsley?"

Dolores Umbridge had managed to weasel her way back into the ministry, and after pulling a few strings, she was seated at the head of the Wizengamot. Her toad like face sent a shiver down Hermione's spine when she addressed the audience.

"Today, the eighth of May," Umbridge began. "We gather the Wizengamot council, to determine the disciplinary actions for the former Headmaster of Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Mr Severus Tobias Snape." At his name, the sound of rubbing stone began to rumble and hole appeared under the council. He was stripped of his usual black robes, and wore a stripped tattered Azkaban jumpsuit. His arms had been shackled, and he socks were muddy. His head hung down and his hair was matted to his face. He moved slowly, and was occasionally was shoved by his Auror escorts. He looked weak and defeated.

Umbridges voice carried on as Hermione turned to Harry, "What have they done to him? He's not even permitted to have shoes?"

Charlie Weasley, the Head Dragon Expert for the Ministry's Magical Creatures department, leant forward, "His boots are Dragon hide. The magical properties in the scales are probably not permitted in Azkaban. The scales not only protect his feet from first year's potions, but they make him a silent traveler. A good tool for a spy."

A marble bench appeared in the center of the Arena, and the Aurors roughly shackled the potion master down; his arms spread out to either side of the cold hard surface.

"And now, officer Rudy will administer the Veritaserum." Umbridge called out. The bald Auror with a blonde goatee, roughtly grabbed the potion master by his jaw. The second Auror, a tall man with his black hair pulled back in a low pony tail, pulled out a vial, and splashed the colorless liquid into Snape's mouth. The audience waited as the Auror's looked over the weakened man. After checking his eyes and pulse, the two Aurors walked back toward the hole under the Wizengamot council, which promptly sealed itself.

The sphere full of dementors slowly descended, and some of the spectators began to move back. The temperature began to drop, and darkness seemed to fill the once brightly lit marble room.

"Will the suspect, please state his name." Dolores called out. She had a pair of glasses at the tip of her nose; like a frog looking at a fly, her eyes gleamed over the frame, as she stared down at Snape.

"Severus Tobias Snape," his weak reply was harsh and scratchy. They had obviously casted an amplifying charm on his voice, the man could barely speak. Hermione felt a pain in her chest, as she watched his shoulders slump forward. His usual character and persona had been crushed; he was defeated already.

"Is it true, Mr Snape, that you carry the mark of 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named'?"

"Yes," he murmered. Hermione suddenly had the desire to see his face, and glanced around at the vacant seats available now that Umbridge had scared spectators closer to the exit. She slowly patted on Harry and Ron's shoulder, and pointed to a row of seats closer to the Wizarding council. With hushed apologies, they slowly made their way around.

"And is it true, that following the Dark Lord's return, you rejoined his circle of followers?"

"Yes," he replied again.

"And when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named gave orders, did you comply?"

"Yes."

Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down, along with a few members of the Order who had followed suit. Snape's face seemed paler than normal, and a cold sweat seemed to spreading along his brow line. What if they had poisoned him with the truth serum?

"Were you present, the night Alastor Moody, former Auror and former fellow co-worker at Hogwarts, was brutally murdered while attacked by Death Eaters?"

His husky reply was short and soft, "Yes."

A small murmur broke out amongst the crowd and Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine as Umbridge's smirk grew. She was adding fuel to the fire on purpose.

"Mr. Snape, while you were leading the staff at Hogwarts as Headmaster, were you involved in the physical abuse of students and staff?" Her pink fluffy quill was slowly swirling about as she wrote on her parchment.

"No," came a quick reply as his head picked up, his eyes going up to the council. His eyes remained impassive, but Hermione could imagine the panic running through him.

"But did you prevent any such incident? Did you intervene in some form or another?" Umbridge pressed, her quill pausing as her insane grin grew even further.

There was a small pause, and the potion master's head fell once more, "No."

Harry was on his feet, "He was a spy for our side! What did you expect him to do? He's the only reason we're not still fighting this war."

Umbridge's face faltered slightly and her eyes met Harry's. "Silence, Mr. Potter. I will have order in my court room." Her smile returned and with a slight wave of her wand the dementors dropped closer to the arena. Harry wrapped his arms around himself and turned to look at the potion master. His breath was visible in the arena and the temperature was dropping drastically. With his arms outstretched, he was unable to hold in his own body heat. Snape's body shook with a shiver and he turned his head into his shoulder, using his own breath to bring him some warmth. The sphere above gave a weak moan as the dementors began to fly around faster and faster; they could sense a feeding time. This was slowly becoming twisted, and even members of the council started to look uncomfortable.

"Did you," Umbridge began again, not waiting for Harry to sit." Or did you not, kill Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore?" The silence was deafening. Snape's frame stiffened and his jaw locked in place. Hermione felt her stomach jumped to her throat as his eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "Come now, Mr. Snape," Umbridge pressed. "We know the truth serum hasn't had time to wear out. Did you kill Albus Dumbledore?" Snape's arms began to struggle on the chains as his face contorted into pain. "We will make you talk."

At her words the sphere above cracked, and as the magical binding became too weak, everyone's heads snapped up. There was a scream, and suddenly, all hell broke loose.

Dementors began to swim out, and in a mad frenzy people began to run and panic. Harry's stag was the first to emit from his wand, as Dementors began to swarm the audience.

Hermione looked down into the pit, Snape sat staring up, his arms were limp and his mouth was agape. He was admitting defeat. She braced herself on the court railing and jumped over into the deep pit. Her feet nearly slipped out from under her as the marble floor began to ice over. She drew her wand out, and began to picture her parents' faces, the sight of Great Hall for the first time, and she was dancing at the Yule Ball. The warmth and happiness began to spread, and her otter immerged brighter and more energetic than ever before. Three dementors were hovering over the pale potion master, and he smiled as they sucked at his soul.

"No! You can't have him!" Hermione yelled, and with a forceful stab of her wand, her otter swam with great speed toward the dark creatures. The dementors screeched as they fled from the swimming mammal. A dementor, unbeknownst to Hermione, silently crept behind her and when she felt an icy breeze on her neck, she turned around. The grey, rotting flesh around the empty sockets made her stomach squirm, she opened her mouth to scream, and that's when it began to attack her happiness. McGonagall was taking points away for her poorly written paper, she heard Molly's scream as she held Fred's dead body to her bosom, and then she saw her parents' cold dead faces. Everything began to get hazy and dark. They were dead. A large stone began to grow in the pit of her stomach. She didn't know why, but she knew, deep down inside, that this wasn't just vision from the dementors magic. Her parents were gone. Maybe death wouldn't be so bad. Would it hurt?

A bright light suddenly broke through, and Hermione heard the Dementors scream as her body filled with warmth. She was lying down on the cold floor, and when she sat up, she saw an enraged Kingsley Shackelbolt. His patronous, a large horntail dragon, had all the dementors trapped back in the globe. Harry's stag was currently circling the potion master and a Lion was pacing around Hermione. The massive beast shook his thick mane, and his large tongue dashed out to lick his massive fangs.

"Are you alright Hermione?" Neville Longbottom walked past the lion and knelt by his class mate.

"I uh-. . I think so," Hermione's eyes never left the lion. "Is that your-"

"Patronous? Yeah, pretty wicked 'eh? Me, with a lion patronous." Neville answered offering her a hand as the lion slowly faded. Hermione took his hand and slowly stood, her head still swimming from her fall. "You sure you're alright?" Neville asked his arm coming around her shoulders. "You were out for a while . . . No one realized you had gone to Snape."

"Professor Snape," Hermione turned to look at Harry, who was removing Snape's shackles. Ron stood behind the weak man, holding him in sitting position. He was out cold, with a smile on his face. Charlie Weasley shook off his large thick coat and draped it over the weak man.

"Kingsley, where the hell have you been?" An older wizard wearing the plum colored Wizengamot robes, approached. His hair was thick and wiry, and his beard had streaks of silver strands. "That mad woman could have killed us all."

"I told you to dismiss her. Where is she Charles?" Kingsley asked, as Aurors stepped in to control the dementors.

"Vanished. Shall I have Rudy and Gregory take the prisoner back to-" the older wizard began.

"No!" Hermione yelled stepping out of Neville's brace. "Kingsley you know he's innocent. Don't let them-"

Kingsley raised a large hand to silence her. "It's alright Hermione." Kingsley turned to Charles who was giving Hermione an odd look. "Mr. Snape will be staying in my custody."

"But Minister-" Charles began to argue.

"Minister?" Everyone seemed to echo at the same time.

"Bloody hell," Ron murmured.

"He'll be staying in my custody Mr. Brown." Kingsley repeated. "I trust Mr. Snape's innocence, but until it can be proven, he needs to be monitored for the public's safety. I will not have him placed in Azkaban until his proven guilty."

Charles clamped his mouth shut, and nodded in understanding. "Well than, shall I have him transferred to your abode."

"No. I'll transfer him myself, Charles, thank you. Have your Aurors scouting the area for Umbridge. She can't have gone far." Kingsley answered. Charles again nodded before turning and leaving. "Oh, and Charles." Mr. Brown turned back to the Minister. "I'll leave you to deal with the public. Daily Prophet is waiting for a statement." Charles simply nodded before taking his leave.

_-x-End of Flashback-x-_

The clock in the hall chimed four times, snapping Hermione back to reality. She laid down her quill, and stood with a yawn; leaving the chair in the doorway. When she passed Ron's man cave, the light from the T.V. caught her eye. He was passed out, on the couch with his head hanging off the cushion. He'd managed to toe off his Chuddley Cannon socks, and his soda can collection had grown. She softly padded over to him, and straightened his he back onto the sofa. His monstrous snores were louder than before, and Hermione's nose wrinkled at the smell of his breath. She debated on waking him for a moment before turning to leave. He would either become foul and cranky, or worse, he would paw at her and beg her for a quickie. They hadn't had sex in nearly four months, and it was heaven in Hermione's opinion.

She closed the door and headed for the Master bedroom with a smile on her face. _**A king sized bed all to myself.**_

-x-

* * *

_**ANOTHER AN: **_Sorry for the delay, but work has kept me busy. I've attempted to write in my notebook every day, and this weekend I've spent a majority of the time, re-writing parts. I originally had a flashback within a flashback, and realized it was just too confusing. I'll just have to spread everything out a bit more. In the next chapter, Hermione returns to Hogwarts to finish out the school year, and we get to see our favorite Professor again! How did you feel about Umbridge escaping? She'll be back…yes, I know, I'm evil.


	4. Chapter 4

**Let's Get Physical:** Five years after the war, and Severus Snape still doesn't feel like his own master. Can Hermione Granger help him see his Freedom? Rated M SS/HG

Disclaimer: This small fanfic is based off of the Harry Potter series, written by JKRowling. I make no money; I just enjoy writing from time to time. Somewhat compliant with the DH, but I had to save my favorite professor.

-x-

**WARNING:** Rated M for a reason. This is a HG/SS story, if you don't like this pairing, you don't have to read. This takes place several years after the war, meaning, Hermione is well over the age requirement.

**QUICK AN**: Just a quick note, anything in _**bold and italic**_ = characters thoughts. I haven't stated that before, so a quick apology if it wasn't obvious. I will be using it in this chapter.

-x-

Chapter 4

Hermione dropped her fork with a clatter, her scrambled eggs and bacon forgotten; she suddenly lost her appetite. It was Sunday morning and Ron was currently doctoring his large bruised toe at the breakfast table. He was in a sour mood after waking up on the couch in the spare room. He'd managed to step on a slice of cold crusty pizza (pepperoni with extra sauce to be exact), before heading toward the master bedroom, trailing remnants down the hall. In a dreamy haze he managed to kick the chair sticking out of her 'office', and when he began hopping on his good foot, he slipped on the pizza sauce and crashed to the floor.

After only four hours of sleep, Hermione awoke to a loud thud promptly followed by a stream of cruses. Words were exchanged between the two, and here they sat in the aftermath of yet another heated discussion.

Hermione rubbed her temples. She had planned to go back to Hogwarts last night after returning from the pub, but Ron had insisted they spend time together. Working at Hogwarts wasn't easy on their relationship, and during her first year of interning, it hadn't been that bad. He came by on weekends to get out of the Barrow, and even treated her to surprise dinners at Hogsmeade. Sometimes they would take long walks around the lake and cautiously patrol the edge of the forbidden forest. They discussed his training a majority of the time, which was a step up Quidditch or his latest chess match with senior Aurror officer, Rachel Thomas.

A year later he finally rented his own flat. The weekend surprises became a rare occurrence and dinners were always cheap finger foods. He blamed it on the new responsibilities of having a flat, but Hermione never quite bought into it. She realized their relationship was no longer fresh, and that the new feel was beginning to wear off for Ron. Without his mother to lead him by the hand, he slowly began to slack off at work and training. When he failed his A.A.T (Aurror Admissions Test) Ron concluded that his weekends at Hogwarts were a distraction to his career and it had nothing to do with the endless hours he spent lounging in front of the T.V.

Hermione looked across the table at her once loving boyfriend. His empty plate had been set to the side; _**At least someone finished breakfast,**_ Hermione thought; and his dirty foot was propped on the corner of the table. His large hairy toe was slightly swollen and he winced when he tried to wiggle his chubby digit. His brow was creased in concentration and his lip protruded slightly as he pouted, the same pout he had his second year at Hogwarts when his mum sent a Howler. _**If it weren't for his facial hair, he would still look like a first year. **_She stared at the small piece of egg in his mustache. He really is a slob.

His shaggy red hair reminded her of Harry's, wild and uncontrollable, sticking up in the front and back. His lucky blue plaid boxers had a hole torn at the waistband, and another in the side seam His muscle shirt sported and orange stain from his Chudley Butter-Beer, and both articles of clothing now had dried pizza sauce.

Hermione stood from the table, taking her plate of cold eggs and dumping it in the rubbish bin.

"I would have eaten that," Ron mumbled to himself, his fingers idly testing the sensitivity of his toe.

Hermione let out a soft huff before turning to face him. "Sorry," she said softly.

He averted his eyes and shrugged his shoulders, "It's okay."

Hermione circled around the table to the sink, and began filling the sink with hot water and dish soap. Her cleaning spells were not to Ron's standards. His mother, a stay at home mom, queen to the cleaning world, was a master with 'Home-Charms' as Ron called them. The first time Hermione attempted to wash the dishes with a cleaning spell, Ron had switched to disposable plates. They didn't have room for a muggle dishwasher, and even if they did, Ron had sworn off muggle machinery after he managed to shrink his Chudley Cannon PJs in her Dryer. She submerged her plate in the soapy water and grabbed a dish-cloth from the drawer under the counter. For Hermione, muggle cleaning was somewhat relaxing. Not to mention, her new conditioning potion was a great addition to the muggle dish soap; her hands were silky smooth after every wash. The water sloshed out of the sink and on to Hermione's shirt as Ron dropped his plate in the sink.

"Ron!" she yelped in surprise.

"Sorry…I'm going to the Barrow, and have mom take a look at my foot." he said placing his hands on her hips, and resting his head on her shoulder. Hermione glanced over at him, and took the moment to wipe his face with her warm soapy hands. He jerked back, a slow smile spreading on his face. "Blah…I think I got soap in my mouth."

Hermione turned in his arms, taking the dish towel off the counter, whipping his face and folding it over her shoulder. He swooped down and gently rubbed his nose to hers. Hermione glanced into his warm brown eyes, and couldn't help but smile before putting her hands behind his neck. And for a moment, it was four years ago. Just the two of them, holding one another and sharing Eskimo kisses.

And that's the moment he chose, to burp in her face.

"Ronald!" Hermione gagged, using the dish towel to fan away his wretched mouth odor.

He pulled back, double over and let out a long laugh, "Oh you should have seen your face. Priceless 'Mione." He pecked her on the cheek and turned to leave the kitchen. "I'll be back after a while."

Hermione felt her chest tighten a moment as her eyes began to burn slightly. She watched him round the corner for the hallway, scratching his backside through his boxers as he went. She really was dating an ogre. Ron had always been a bit disorganized in their youth, his table manners were never a strong suit, and what man didn't leave laundry around every once in a while. He gained a bit of weight when he started living on his own, but that never affected the way she felt about him. Now however, it was hard to feel anything but annoyance. Last night at the pub, she envied Ginny. Harry had pulled out her chair, lightly caressed her hand, and even danced with her.

A small tear appeared in the corner of her eye, and she aggressively brushed it away, slowly counting down from five. _**Maybe it's just not meant to be.**_

She tossed the dish towel aside, and abandoned her duty as dish washer. She had packing to do.

-x-

**AN:** First off, let me apologize for the late update. Last weekend we (my family) got a phone call, and one of my Great Uncles isn't doing so well. He's been struggling with cancer and he wanted to have a family reunion . . . So last weekend, I went to my mother's and from there we drove out of state to visit with our family.

Secondly, Yes, I know another short chapter. I do apologize about that. I have a lot written out, but it's currently jumbled in a spiral notebook. I'm trying to organize my thoughts, and keep everything in order (harder than I thought it would be). I also have a few things written out, that I may not even use for this particular story. I will do my best to have something ready soon. I appreciate all the follows, favorites and reviews. No pressure on reviews. Hope everyone is having a great weekend.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Let's Get Physical:**_ Five years after the war and Severus Snape still doesn't feel like his own master. Can Hermione Granger help him see his Freedom? Rated M SS/HG

_**Disclaimer:**_ This small fanfic is based off of the Harry Potter series, written by JKRowling. I make no money; I just enjoy writing from time to time. Somewhat compliant with the DH, but I had to save my favorite professor.

* * *

-x-

**WARNING:** Rated M for a reason. This is a HG/SS story, if you don't like this pairing, you don't have to read. This takes place several years after the war, meaning, Hermione is well over the age requirement.

_**QUICK AN: **_ Thank you for all the lovely reviews. Someone found a typo in my last chapter. . . yes it is Burrow, I have no idea what possessed me to type Barrow. I apologize for the numerous changes in format (I'm still learning ). Also, I'm just going to warn you all now…I know Kingsley has a bit of an accent, but I'm horrible at adding accents to writing pieces. I hope you all can forgive me.

-x-

* * *

Chapter 5

Hermione stared at the list on the parchment as Minervia's voice carried on. The students were scheduled to arrive in two hours, and the last staff meeting of school term, was almost over. She brought her thumb to her mouth and nipped at her nail; a nasty habit she had developed while on the run hunting for Horcruxes. She would make her final decision by the end of term. _**Three weeks.**_

She had chickened out. All of her belongings were packed; her clothes and her precious leather bond books. _**How sad is that? I've been living with him, for how long, and my possessions are so few?**_ It had to be obvious to him as well that things weren't going well. They were both better off. Weren't they? She had sat in the silence of their flat, waiting, for what seemed like hours for Ron to return. _**Where will I go? **_That's when her panic attack hit. _**Get a grip Granger**_; she mentally berated herself, yanking her hand away from her mouth. It had to be the stress lack of sleep. _**Maybe I can get a quick nap before dinner.**_

Something jarred her chair, and Hermione's eyes snapped to the dark wizard who kicked her chair. He looked irritated as he kept his eyes on the Headmistress. The silence was tense and Hermione realized everyone was looking at her. She could feel her cheeks grow warm with embarrassment, when she met the intense gaze of the Headmistress. The elderly witch looked over her square glasses, and arched an eyebrow at her former student.

"I asked if you could fill in tonight on rounds, since Severus has his parole meeting with the Minister?"

Hermione glanced at the Potion Master beside her as his lips grew even thinner with irritation. "Of course," she responded, her eyes never leaving Snape's profile. His head dropped slightly in recognition, but his left fist remained clench on the arm rest. She knew he hated when Minervia had to bring up his personal business into the staff meetings, especially when it pertained to his lengthy probation.

She knew his parole meetings with the Minister were only once a month and sometimes involved a strong drink. If it weren't for the 'required' attendance, she might venture to guess he actually enjoyed himself. He ventured out of the castle away from the 'dunderheads', and spent an hour or so with an individual he more than tolerated during the war. Of all the individuals in the Order, Kingsley was the only one Hermione could remember Snape never being short with. The two men had always been cordial and she wondered if the probation had soured their respect for one another. After only working for him for four months, she learned that it hadn't.

Once, she returned to the classroom after curfew to find him struggling with a sober-up potion. He had cursed under his breath at the vial in his hand, and when he noticed her presence, attempted to hide the potion behind his back. He had been livid; obviously disgruntled by the fact he had been caught in the act. He had insulted her like one of his first years, and almost stormed out before he bent over the nearest cauldron and emptied his stomach. She took his moment of weakness to snatch the vial from his hand, popping the cork out, and handing it back. His sickly expression went from irritation, to confusion, to what could only be described as relief, as he downed the potion in one gulp. She watched as his demeanor changed. Anyone would think that after assisting someone in his condition, they might be grateful, or at least embarrassed; however that wasn't the case, when assisting the Potion Master.

A slender index finger came up and Hermione leaned back as his words came out low and dangerous, "No one. . . is to hear of this. Not Minervia. Not-"

"I don't know what you're talking about Professor." Hermione firmly told him before turning from him and carrying her grading materials to the student-teacher desk she had in the corner. She could see him in her peripheral vision as she graded. For a moment he didn't move; just stood watching her for a few minutes. She waited for him to storm out and slam the door, but instead he walked over to his desk, and began working on his lecture plan. They worked in silence for nearly two hours before she wished him a good night and left.

A commotion between Trelawny and Sinistra pulled Hermione from her once again wandering mind.

"Astrology, and the signs have just as much to do with 'future readings' as your tea leaves," Aurora Sinistra stated.

"My inner eye cannot focus on its visions, when MY space is disrupted by your negative energy," Trelawney argued, her hand grasping at her chest. "There must be another location you can use."

"Negative energy? When have I had negative energy, you crazy-"

Trewlany gave an exaggerated gasp, her hand shooting to her temple as she stood and began to pace. "So much negativity. . . I saw in my tea leaves, this meeting would not go well." She turned to the Headmistress. "Minervia-"

"Enough," McGonagall mumbled through her hand. She had covered her face at the mention of the old Astronomy tower. The tower had been repaired, along with the rest of the castle after the war, but there were still students and staff that refused to use or enter. "Aurora, I will find you a new classroom on the east wing tower, until then, Sybill I must ask you to please grant Aurora access to your classroom and balcony this Wednesday night. Maybe your blessing to the lesson will drown out the negative auror." Sybill opened her mouth to argue, but thought better of it and returned to her seat.

"Are there any other issues we need to discuss this evening?" McGongall asked, as she straightened her glasses.

As if on cue, the fire place flared up and a man cleared his throat. Everyone turned to the floating head in the flames and Hermione felt a heavy weight on her shoulders. _**This can't be good.**_

-x-

Severus had a similar reaction, as he sat a little straighter in his chair. It was only three o'clock in the afternoon, too soon for his probation meeting. _**What could Kingsley want at this hour?**_

"Minervia, I know my timing couldn't come at a more inconvenient time, but this can't wait. May I come thru?" Kingsley asked.

"Of course, Minister." McGonagall answered standing to levitate her chair out of the way.

The flames grew tall and green, and the outline of the Minister appeared. The flames were almost wild as he stepped out with a fierce expression on his face. Something was definitely wrong. He glanced around at the staff and gave a small nod to the group before turning and facing the Headmistress. Their voices were soft and the Minister's tone was stiff. Severus could feel everyone's stares, as they continued to talk in hushed tones.

"What's going on?"

Severus arched and eyebrow and turned to glare at the 'know-it-all', but she was too busy staring at the Minister and Headmistress to notice. His assistant was either daft, or extremely daring, and he found it annoying. "And what exactly gives you the impression that I know, Granger?" he sniped.

Her brown eyes finally met his, and her eyebrows rose at his harsh tone and dark stare. "Well I just thought . . ." she began, her eyes flicked back and forth as if trying to read his expression. Obviously reading into his irritation, she sighed and averted her eyes. "Never mind," she finished, sitting back into her seat.

McGonagall clapped her hands briefly, jerking everyone out of their hushed discussions, "I'd like to thank all of you for attending this evening. The students should be arriving at the station at approximately five o'clock. Staff members need to be seated for dinner at five-fifteen, and remember, we need to keep the students nailed down. I know it's the last three weeks of term, and everyone is excited for the long break, but their studies come first. The O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s schedule will be posted on the staff bulletin board, as well as the notice boards in each house. If anyone has any questions, staff or student, please come see me Monday or any following day. For now, I will leave you to return to your grading, or packing. Severus? May I see you for a moment, please?"

_**Figures.**_

"And you as well Hermione," Minervia called as the staff members began to file out.

_**Oh for fucks sake. **_ Severus turned to see the shocked look on the young Gryfindor, as she sat back down, purposely avoiding his gaze.

As the door closed behind Madame Pomprey, Severus stood and pointed at his assistant, "Why is she needed? If this is about me, I'd like to keep her out of my business."

"Severus," Minervia warned.

"What? I think that's a fair request. I can just imagine the talk in the Weasley and Potter residence when they hear-"

"She's here because she might have to take over for you, for a while," McGonagall replied evenly. She eagerly waved Hermione deeper into the office were they could talk quietly

"Take over? Minervia she hasn't even completed her-" Severus called after her.

"Severus," Kingsley interrupted holding his hand up, showing him a long scroll of writing and multiple signatures. "I have a warrant for your arrest. Aurrors will be here in the morning, I was granted –"

Severus held a hand up, shaking his head. Did he hear that correctly? "Wait. A warrant? On what grounds?"

"An anonymous tip came in, through a reporter. Says you've been paying for-" Kingsley paused as his eyes darted to the potion assistance. "Umm. . .Services from a former fellow death eater. Any contact with a Death Eater is a direc-"

"I know. A direct violation of my probation, "Severus finished. His mind was spinning as thoughts began to swim in and out of focus. "But Kingsley, the only person I'm in contact with, is Draco Malfoy, and that is under your supervision."

"Severus you know I don't doubt your word, but it's not that simple. The individual saw you last night-"

"Veritaserum?" Severus interupted.

"If they bring you in for Vertaserum, it still adds a penalty to your probation and another two years gets tacked on." Kingsley said softly shaking his head.

The potion master felt the wind leave his sails as he slowly took his seat. This would not do. His reputation was already in shreds, and this would just re-open old wounds. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Bloody Hell," he finally muttered.

"In order to clear this up, I'll need either the name of this err. . .correspondent." At this Severus repeated the statement. "Or if you have a witness for last night-." _**I'm fucked.**_

"He was at the pub," Hermione spoke up. Everyone suddenly had their eyes on her.

-x-

Hermione took in her bottom lip and licked the dry surface before repeating her statement. "He was at the pub. So what? What does that have to do with his probation?"

Kingsley advanced on her and gently grasped her upper arms, "You and Severus were at the pub?"

Again Hermione licked her bottom lip. She almost said that wasn't completely true, but words failed her. Her eyes darted to the potion master, and she saw the wheels turning in his head. She couldn't honestly say she had been with him all evening, but she couldn't just stand by and do nothing. Meeting the Minister's eye she slowly nodded, "Yeah well, there were a lot of us there. I'm sure we could find more witnesses."

"No need," Kingsley said lightly patting her arms before turning to the potion master. "One witness with an identity outweighs an anonymous tip. May I get a statement in writing? Surely Skeeter's witness will abandon this tryst and-"

"Wait-" Hermione interrupted. "Skeeter? As in Rita Skeeter?"

"Yes, why?" the Minister asked as he conjured a quill and piece of parchment.

Hermione's guilt for a small white lie vanished, and the pressure on Hermione's shoulders lifted, as she no longer felt the need to vomit. _**The little pest is up to no good again**_. She took the quill in hand, and wrote on the parchment, 'Severs Snape was at the pub. -Hermione Granger'.

"Well. . . we'll probably need a bit more information than that, Hermione." Kingsley said, slowly taking the parchment.

"No you want. Trust me. Rita Skeeter's tip, whoever it is, is a fraud." She handed the Minister the quill. "If she does decide to fight this, her anonymous tip will have to come forward. If that does happen, you know where to find me."

Kingsley arched an eyebrow at the young witch, before smirking, "I take it you know something I don't know."

"Let's just say Rita and I go way back. She'll know I'm calling her bluff. If need be, also inform her that I'm willing to take Veritaserum ." Hermione added with a slight smirk.

Kingsley chuckled slightly before turning to the Headmistress.

Hermione's eyes met his, and she gave him the weakest of smiles before leaving the trio to talk. Merlin she needed a nap.

-x-

* * *

_**AN**_ : It's currently 2:30am. I have read, and re-read, and re written this so many times. I'm finally some-what satisfied with this chapter. And I even managed to make it a decent length lol. I appreciate the reviews so much. We will be getting to the RW/HG break up soon. Hermione isn't the type to just run off without making it clear that it's over, and while I have made Ron quite the greasy slug, I'm not going to make him a cheater. It'll be a clean break, and soon things will be set in motion. For now I will leave you to ponder. . . What is Rita up to, and who is this anonymous tip? How will Snape react to Hermione saving his neck?


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